Chapter Four
Michelle muttered to herself and she pulled the items Lithium had purchased from the bags, arranging them on the counter. Damn, but he was an annoying man.
Sexy too.
Yeah. Sexy. She sighed and visualized his profile, the quirk of his lips in a rare smile, the glimmer of his eyes. Damn. Of all the men she’d been with in her life—though there had not been many—he eclipsed them all. There was just something about him. His energy, his humming tension…chemistry.
She had to grin. Chemistry.
Lithium.
His codename was stupid. George was better, though, if she were being honest, he did not look like a George.
Even George Clooney paled in comparison.
She shivered as she remembered how hard his body had been when he’d pressed against her in the stairwell. How hard his cock had been. She allowed herself a moment of fantasy where they rubbed against each other without the barrier of their clothing. In bed.
She flicked a glance at the bed, mentally measuring it. It was a queen-sized mattress. That was good. But he was a large man. Would there be room for both of them? Maybe she’d have to be on top—
With a groan, she forced those thoughts from her head. Was he hot? Yes, he was. Did she want him? Definitely. If there was a chance to tangle with him, would she take it? Hell yeah.
It was probably just a logical response to the stress, to want him. No doubt a good, hard fucking would do them both some good.
Again, her attention drifted. It took some effort to pull it back to the task at hand. With great determination, she surveyed the staples he’d chosen. As the items registered, she snorted. Lots of hot dogs, pancake mix, snack crackers, canned cheese and jerky.
All junk food. Not a piece of fruit or a vegetable in the lot. What she wouldn’t give for a wheel of brie.
She should never have let a man do the shopping.
With hopes high, she turned to the final bag and peered inside. She couldn’t hold back a grimace. There were a bunch of Peeps on top. She dug down deeper. More Peeps. And more.
With a scowl she dumped the contents of the bag on the counter. It was full of marshmallow Santas, reindeer and snowmen.
Seriously?
The door opened and he stepped in, shaking the snow from his hair. She growled at him. “A whole bag of Peeps?”
He fixed an innocent expression on his face. “I like them.”
“We cannot survive on sugar.”
“There’s hot dogs too.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you know what they put in hot dogs?”
“Dogs?”
She ignored his jest. “No one knows. That’s what they put in hot dogs.”
“You’re an analyst. You could probably find out.”
“But I don’t want to find out.” She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to eat them. “Couldn’t you at least have gotten something good?”
“This is all good.” He swept an arm over the collection of crap. Actual crap.
“There’s not one thing here that’s nutritious in the slightest.”
He pointed mutely to a can of soup.
“Sodium.”
Dried meat-flavored snacks.
“Nitrates.”
The can of cheese.
Oh, she couldn’t even begin with that. “We can’t eat like this, George.”
He frowned at her. “My name isn’t George.”
“The peanut butter is the only thing that’s even slightly palatable, and that’s so full of fat, they’ll have to roll me out of here.”
“They’re good at rolling people.”
She glared at him and he huffed a sigh.
“All right. Tomorrow we’ll go back to the store. But you probably won’t find anything there you like. For the time being, how about a PB&J?”
“You didn’t buy bread.”
“I got hot dog buns.”
She gaped at him. “You want me to eat a PB&J on a hot dog bun?” Good God, what was this world coming to?
She had no idea why he laughed. Laughed. That it was a rusty laugh didn’t help. “You really are anal, aren’t you, Miss Analyst?”
“I most certainly am not.” She tried to be huffy, but her lips turned up. She had no idea why.
Oh, all right. She did. He was adorable when he joked. When he let down that cold hard wall and became human for a moment. A brilliant, shining moment of time.
She really liked him when he did that.
Pity he didn’t do it often.
They fell silent as each prepared their own meal. He nibbled on a long thin stick of mystery meat as he speared three hotdogs on the skewer that had been hanging on a hook by the fireplace. She made a PB&J. On a hot dog bun. As she expected, the bread to peanut butter ratio was way out of whack, but she tried to keep it from freaking her out. She wasn’t anal. Not the way he said.
She just liked things a certain way.
That was all.
Really. It was.
“How is it?” he asked as he polished off his second nitrate-laced death bomb.
“Mmfh.” Her mouth was crammed with too much bun to answer. But it was filling and she had been hungry, so she decided not to complain. Much.
And that was the extent of their conversation…until he reached for the Peeps. She watched as he impaled Santa on the skewer.
“What are you doing?”
He shot her an evil grin. “Roasting him.”
“Roasting Santa?”
“Yup. You wanna do Rudolf?”
Why, oh why, did such exhilaration flood her at his offer?
It was an invitation to roast marshmallows, not an invitation to share his bed. But oh, it felt like one. It felt like a welcome into his cold and lonely world. An invitation to play with him.
She couldn’t resist. She plopped on the floor next to him before the fire, crossing her legs. The satisfaction she felt, goring the reindeer, surprised her. She held her skewer over the fire next to his. “I warn you, I’m not good at this,” she said.
He shot her a stunned look. “Wait. Something you’re not good at?”
“I always catch them on fire.”
He grinned. “That’s half the fun.”
Their gazes caught just then and held. Something passed between them. The crackling fire, the melting marshmallow treats, the world, wafted away. There was nothing but the two of them. Nothing but this moment.
Her heart thudded as he leaned closer. His attention flicked to her lips. His tongue dabbed out, as though he were anticipating…tasting her.
She leaned toward him in response, and her lungs locked as his breath caressed her face. No doubt they wanted to capture the essence of him and hold it in.
Their lips touched. It was light. Soft. Sweet.
So tentative. So tantalizing.
His taste trailed into her mouth. His tongue followed.
Passion howled between them, flared in a sudden blaze of need.
A clatter rose as he dropped his skewer, and she dropped hers, and they came together, chest to chest, in a rush. He clutched her shoulders with his hard hands and she wrapped herself around him, sinking her fingers in his hair and holding him close.
He sealed her mouth with his in a harsh tumult, consuming her, ravaging her, taking all she had and more.
He stole her breath. Her sanity. All her carefully honed logic. It all flew away, flew away in the face if his savage kiss.
Ah, but she was savage too. Hungry. She was wild for him.
As though a dam had broken—in each of them—a wave of excitement swept through, devastating all their walls, all their defenses, all their resistance.
He made a noise at the back of his throat, a little growl, and pushed her down on the floor and covered her with a scorching weight, a seething intent. His mouth moved in a damp trail over her cheek and to her neck. He nested there, nibbling and laving her, making her shiver and shake.
God, it was good. He was good.
He captured her breast, squeezed, and she moaned. Like a crazed thing, she tugged his shirt from the band of his pants and shoved her hands beneath it in a frenzy to feel him, flesh to flesh. His back was magnificent. The skin was warm and smooth—but for a few scars—and the muscles bunched and rippled to her touch. When she scored him with her nails, he groaned and rubbed against her.
His cock was hard, adamant.
Yes, something whispered in her soul.
Yes.
Yes.
“No.”
It nearly killed her when he wrenched away. She glared at him. “What do you mean no?”
He sat up and she followed suit. The look he sent her was wreathed in anguish. Regret. Determination. It was a combination that made her chest ache.
“We can’t.”
“Jesus. Why not?” Surely that wasn’t a petulant snap. But hell, she’d wanted him. Wanted this. With a hunger unlike anything she’d ever known. Maybe it was reaction to the events of the day. Maybe it was the bubbling craving for connection she’d been suffering for far too long. Or maybe it was just him.
Regardless, she wanted and she wanted badly.
“We can’t.” He stood and walked away, raking his hair. The sight made her want to weep and howl. “I can’t.”
She tried for humor. “I’m pretty sure you can.” His cock had wanted to…
He didn’t even look at her. He crossed his arms and stared at the wall, showing her his back. “I’m on a mission. I can’t get distracted.”
A distraction?
Was that what this was to him? What she was?
Oooh. That pissed her off.
She leaped to her feet and brushed off her butt and started tidying up the food—or the food-like substances—but there was no real purpose in the way she rearranged the cans and packages as she shoved them onto the shelves.
“This mission is important. I need to keep you safe. I can’t let anything get in the way of that.”
Something in his tone reached her. Wriggled past her fury and found the tender part of her heart. Touched her. A sudden suspicion trailed through her.
He wasn’t trying to convince her. He was trying to convince himself.
Fact was, he was tempted. He wanted her too.
She didn’t know why that thought thrilled her to the core. Or maybe she did.
He was tempted. Teetering on the edge of a treacherous cliff.
Maybe it wouldn’t take much to tip him over.
She gusted a sigh. “It’s okay,” she said in a doleful voice as she dropped into a chair. “I understand.”
His head snapped around. His brow rippled. “You do?”
“Yes.” A sniff. She turned to stare at the fire, well aware his gaze was locked on her face. “I’m not…”
He took a step closer. “Not…what?”
She threaded her fingers and stared at them, trying to work up a tear. “Not…pretty.” A mumble.
“What? Not pretty?” A roar.
“I get it. You don’t have to rub it in.”
“Rub it— What the hell are you talking about? You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Well maybe it’s something else then. My personality—”
“You have a great personality.”
“The way I smell—”
“You smell…”
She glanced at him when he broke off.
“You smell wonderful.” The words were ragged.
“Then why do you think men don’t find me attractive?” Ah. She perfected the woebegone look.
He paled. He took the final step to her side and then sank to his knees before her. “I find you attractive.” A whisper.
She cupped his cheek. His beautiful, hard, sculpted cheek. She stroked his scars with her thumb. “Then why don’t you want me?”
His Adam’s apple worked. “I do.”
“Well, if you want me and I want you—”
“You don’t.” The words were harsh. Harsh enough for her to realize she’d reached the heart of it, the very core of his resistance. “You don’t want me.”
“I do.”
His throat worked. “You don’t have a clue what I am.”
“I do.” She did. She could see through to his soul when she looked into his black eyes.
“If you knew who I was, what I want, you’d run screaming in the other direction.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“I am a beast,” he barked, lurching to his feet and pacing across the room.
She followed. “I know.”
“I am a savage.”
“I know.”
He whirled on her. “I like it…rough.”
She shuddered and reached for him and whispered, “I know.”
Benedict stared at her. His pulse howled in his veins, his mind spun with her scent, his heart lurched at the expression in her eyes.
His cock thrummed.
“I know,” she repeated and heat took him. A scorching, roiling, boiling tempest in his gut. He grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the wall with a snarl. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”
She held his gaze, calm, serene, resolute. “I do.”
“Goddamn it, Michelle…” But there was little heat in his curse.
“Goddamn it, George.”
There was no reason to smile. No reason to laugh. This was a stupid conversation and a stupider prospect. But she made him smile. She made him laugh.
That was probably the most dangerous thing about her.
Still, he couldn’t resist. Not her warmth, not her courage, not her indomitable will.
Certainly not her allure.
She curled her hand around his nape and pulled him down, and she kissed him. Kissed him. And he was lost.
Just one time, he told himself. Just one night with her.
And then he’d walk away.
He had to.
She deserved better.